Showing posts with label John Lennon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Lennon. Show all posts

Sunday, October 21, 2018

Four Lads Who Shook The World


Between February 9, 1961 and August 3, 1963, The Beatles played The Cavern Club in Liverpool 292 times. When they first played there, they were a group of three teenagers (Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Pete Best) with a 20 year old John Lennon who had already spent months in Hamburg, Germany playing gigs at all hours of the night in the red light district and refining their craft. By the time they were done at The Cavern, they were an international sensation with a number one album (Please Please Me) and two number one singles ("From Me To You" and "She Loves You"). They had also replaced Pete Best with Richard Starkey. You might know him better as Ringo Starr.

The Cavern Club is still standing today. Sort of. The original Club opened on Liverpool's Mathew Street in 1957 and was closed in 1973 to make way for the Merseyrail underground railway. As it was below ground, it was not knocked down but instead filled in, which as it turned out was pretty fortunate. In the early 1980s, the original Cavern Club was excavated with the intent of restoring the Club to its original site. For the most part in spirit, this was accomplished, with funds raised from the sale of the original bricks which made up the Cavern's arched ceilings. It's not exactly where it used to stand but it does overlap the original site.

The block of Mathew Street where the new Cavern Club is located today is just a quick walk from the Liverpool docks and then a couple of flights down to an underground series of brick vaults with a stage at one end of the center vault. It's hot and stuffy and I imagine it's full of people all day and every day visiting just to say that they have stood where The Beatles started out. In early September of this year I found myself at corner table of the Cavern listening to Jonny Parry bang out Beatles hits for 45 minutes in the middle of the afternoon from the Cavern stage. 

The Club still operates today as a legit live music venue (I'm not knocking Jonny Parry but look, there wasn't even a cover) mostly trading on its reputation as the place where The Beatles started out. It's not all just free Beatles tributes to lure tourists in to buy drinks. Wait late enough and you'll have to pay. There are display cases containing framed and signed memorabilia from all sorts of group from Queen to Adele to the Arctic Monkeys to Paul McCartney and a pretty good sized souvenir shop with all sorts of Cavern Club swag. The beer is cold and good but man, was it stuffy and hot down there. 

Jonny Parry in the middle of "Here Comes The Sun" or some other Beatles cover. Essential stuff.
If you are a Beatles fan determined to visit sites that are instrumental to the group's history, you have to visit London and Liverpool. London for the obligatory posed picture in the zebra crossing outside the Abbey Road Studios where all the Beatles' songs were recorded and Liverpool for pretty much everything else. Four years ago, we made the pilgrimage to Abbey Road; this year we went to Liverpool. 

Before we cover our Liverpool experience let me just say that Abbey Road is a complete circus. The number of people in that crosswalk posing in what I am sure they feel is just like John, Paul, George and Ringo on the cover of the band's best album (my opinion) is both absurd and comical. And most of them don't come close to a reasonable facsimile of that famous picture whether they are alone or in a group of four or more. I will say, however, from my own efforts, that it's about impossible to pose in the perfect walking form demonstrated by The Beatles. I tried several times and failed. And I was alone and didn't have to coordinate with three other people in the exact same body position. And no, I will not be posting those pictures here or anywhere else. I look as ridiculous as every other person there.

For all the time that The Beatles spent in Liverpool, there are precious few real pilgrimage sites. You would think that in 20 plus years of time that there would be a slew of must sees but remember we are talking about people's childhoods in a city that had been bombed heavily during the Second World War. The place had enough issues just recovering life back to normalcy. Permanence likely had a little bit different meaning back then. People were busy just trying to survive and weren't keeping track of events that seemed meaningless at the time.


Eleanor Rigby. Bench. Me. 
Having said that, The Cavern Club should probably be on every Beatles fan's must see list. So should the statue of John Lennon pretty much right across from the entrance to the Club and the bench with Eleanor Rigby at the east end of Mathew Street if for no other reason than they are right there. Lennon's statue is pretty much life sized. By "pretty much" I mean my shoulders are mostly at the same height as Lennon's shoulders but my head is nowhere near the size of his (what I assume is a deliberately larger than life) melon. I don't know how many people get their picture taken with this statue but I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by. I'm a tourist after all.

Nor was I going to miss out on sitting on the total opposite end of the bench from Eleanor Rigby. I am deliberately not staring or engaging with Mrs. Rigby in any way in the photograph above. Far be it from me to be the one who invalidated the "all the lonely people" line from McCartney's lyrics. I appreciate the cabbie who moved on the bench so I could get this completely self absorbed tourist picture. 

Want more Beatles-related statues? Head back down to the docks from The Cavern Club and you'll find John, Paul, George and Ringo (not in that order) taking a stroll down towards the Mersey. This one is definitely larger than life-sized with each figure probably about seven feet tall. There will be tons of tourists in all likelihood around this statue also. Be patient and you can get a decent picture.


The graffitied brick ceiling of the current Cavern Club.
There are other Beatles worshipping spots you can get to in Liverpool. These include Penny Lane, which is an actual street in Liverpool, not a made up name just for the song or even a metaphor for something else. There's also Strawberry Field which was a Salvation Army boys' home and inspiration for the John Lennon tune "Strawberry Fields Forever" which was part of the double A side 1967 single along with McCartney's "Penny Lane". 

We skipped both. We were on a day trip from London (more than one person said we were crazy to take such a day trip but it worked) and neither site is exactly easy or quick to get to unless you take a taxi, which we elected not to do. And in the end, visiting both Strawberry Field and Penny Lane wouldn't enrich our Beatles trip other than I'd be able to post a picture of both signs on this blog. Beyond the signs, though, there's nothing there. It's not like I'd get a lot out of watching a banker in a motorcar who never wears a mac in the pouring rain or a pretty nurse selling poppies from a tray feeling like she's in a play even if these folks were to be seen anyway on the day we were there. Got all that? :)


And by the way we didn't go up and back to Liverpool in a single day just so we could call ourselves Day Trippers. Although I guess we weren't really. After all, we didn't have a one way ticket, yeah? 


So what can a Beatles fan do to get the most out of his or her A Day In The Life in Liverpool other than The Cavern Club? Well, based on our experience, I'd recommend you take a trip to the childhood homes of John Lennon and Paul McCartney. I'm sure there are lots of bus and van trips around the city which will take you by these places to get a look at the outside and tell you stories about the boyhood of the two primary Fab Four songwriters. I'd suggest you skip all those and find a way to get inside each property. And there's only one way to do that and that's with the National Trust.


On our way through the streets of Liverpool to Lennon's and McCartney's childhood homes.
We disembarked from the train from London at Liverpool's Lime Street station and faced with about a mile walk through a maze of streets in the rain and about 40 minutes to get there, we sprung for a cab to the Jurys Inn where we were set to get picked up for our half day Ticket To Ride to see where Lennon and McCartney started out. On the surface of things, this might not be a terribly exciting tour. I mean it's a bus trip to a semi-detached 1930s house in suburban Liverpool followed by a stop at a council house in a neighborhood that still looks pretty much exactly the same as when it was built in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Lennon's house, named Mendips, was the semi-detached house; McCartney's home, at 20 Forthlin Road, was the council house.

Maybe a primer on council houses is in order. These are typically local government-owned properties which are rented to tenants through an application process. Rules differ from council to council but there is usually some right to stay in the properties at the tenants' sole option and sometimes options to buy after minimum stays (of years). Some properties are desirable and are heavily sought after. Others can be habitual waystops for individuals, couples or families on their way to someplace they consider better. These are not publicly provided houses handed to people for free but instead a way to provide housing for people who cannot typically afford to purchase their own property.

Today both McCartney's former home and Mendips, which was owned by John Lennon's Auntie Mimi and Uncle George (John's mother Julia was unmarried and agreed that it was probably best for John to be raised by her sister and husband), are owned by the National Trust and that's the only way to get inside. They acquired 20 Forthlin Road in 1995 at the suggestion of John Birt, the Director-General of the BBC and a Liverpool-born contemporary of The Beatles who noticed the property was for sale. Seven years later, they added Mendips at 251 Menlove Avenue to their portfolio when Yoko Ono bought the house and donated to the Trust (the house, not a soap impression of his wife which he ate).


Mendips, 251 Menlove Avenue, Liverpool. John's bedroom is the small bay window at the second floor left.
The house tours are run by husband and wife team Colin and Sylvia. Colin takes visitors around Mendips and has been doing so for 15 years; Sylvia is over on Forthlin Road where she's been hosting for seven years. Both guides are fantastic and clearly devoted to their work. It shows in their knowledge and the care they take in explaining small details which might seem unimportant but which provide a vivid description of what life in the houses are like.

As works of architecture or buildings or whatever you want to call it, both properties are restored to about the condition they were in during the 1950s when Lennon and McCartney were living at home and attending school in Liverpool. There has been some restoration from photographs and some objects like the sink in the McCartney's kitchen were reinstalled when found in storage elsewhere on the property (which is really lucky I think). 

The most major reconstruction work done seemed to be the replacement of the front windows at Forthlin Road. The owners after the McCartneys had replaced the windows in the house to make the place more energy efficient. In a effort towards authenticity, the National Trust noted that other properties on the street had not been upgraded in this way and offered to swap out the more energy efficient windows at number 20 for the original set elsewhere in the neighborhood for free. Apparently the other people went for the free upgrade.

The furniture in the places is generally speaking not original. Both Lennon and McCartney bought new furniture for the places when they made it big and the old stuff was tossed. This makes sense, right? I mean it's not like Aunt Mimi or Paul's dad Jim were looking to hang on to the old tables and chairs in the event their houses one day became museums. Makes sense that this stuff is gone. Wth the exception of a couple of pieces of furniture Mimi hung on to and the reproduction of the kitchen clock at Mendips (Yoko still owns the original), you are looking at furniture in the style of what was there at the time. It's good enough.


The relatively nondescript 20 Forthlin Road with the red door. Paul's bedroom is right above the front door.
There's something about being in places where significant historical events have happened. This is the real value for me of visiting these two homes. At Mendips it was the notion that John Lennon and Paul McCartney had hung out in John's tiny second floor bedroom and worked on songs together while Aunt Mimi (Uncle George was dead at this point) stayed as far away as possible. Just standing in that small room and imagining Lennon and McCartney working on playing songs together and talking about rock and roll music was pretty amazing.

We were also told that the entire band (assuming pre-Ringo here) used to rehearse in the front room of the house. I swear there's not enough room for two people to rehearse on guitars in that room. They must have completely moved everything to the walls to get a drum set in the room. We were where it happened. Also pretty amazing.

But the goosebumps moment (and there didn't have to be one but there genuinely was) happened for me at Forthlin Road. First of all, I've never been an enormous John Lennon fan so I was inherently less interested in Mendips; I would put Lennon third on my "favorite Beatles list" after Harrison and McCartney (and yes, in that order). Second, the only tale of any song written at Mendips told by Colin was "Please Please Me". That song is OK and I understand the place it has in The Beatles' catalog but it's not in like my top 40 or 50 Beatles songs. Not close.

Forthlin Road had more magic. Sylvia told us what was written where. "I Lost My Little Girl"? Written in McCartney's bedroom in the front of the house after he moved out of the shared back room with brother Mike. "She Loves You"? Back room, ground floor. "I Saw Her Standing There"? Front room, ground floor. "When I'm 64"? Played on the piano by Paul before he moved out in the early 1960s (the song finally appeared on Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band in 1967). "I'll Follow The Sun"? Also front room, ground floor. 

That last one did it. Are you kidding me? "I'll Follow The Sun", one of my favorite Beatles songs of all time was written feet from where I was standing in early September? Wow! I'm not kidding here but this was the moment that I appreciated this tour. It seems silly. I mean all we are talking about here is a relatively simple, less than two minute long song but it's an incredible song. And I was standing right where it was created. Goosebumps! I'm telling you. Worth the price of admittance and indeed the whole trip to Liverpool just for that moment. You never know when this stuff is going to hit you and you have to travel to get these moments. You can't do this stuff remote.


So, John, who exactly was the walrus, again? And is Abbey Road or Sgt Pepper better?
Mendips and 20 Forthlin Road are about 1.3 miles apart by car. Cut across the fields between the two properties like McCartney and Lennon used to do and I'm sure you can shave off the 0.3 miles. I often think about how coincidence plays a part in greatness, particularly in songwriting because I love music so much. It's not like Lennon and McCartney are the only two kids in the history of rock and roll to live near to each other or meet by chance but it doesn't get really much better than these two, does it? 

I'm not trying to give The Beatles all the credit for transforming music history but honestly without these two where would music be? Would some other group have done what The Beatles did eventually or would we be somewhere completely different? Would we have figured out what Sgt Pepper or Abbey Road or Revolver or Rubber Soul achieved in the mid and late 1960s ever? Would we have something resembling "Hey Jude" or "Let It Be" or "Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite!" or "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" or "A Hard Day's Night" or "Yesterday" or "All You Need Is Love" or anything else like these two wrote? Would we have "I'll Follow The Sun"? I'm thinking no. And I'm thinking the world would be a poorer place. For all this and for the one mile as the bike rides between where these two lived, Liverpool was worth it. 



How We Did It
Our day trip from London to Liverpool started early and got us back to London late. You don't have to do what we did but it can be done. Easily. Virgin Trains runs service that takes between two to two and a half hours. There are other ways to get there. You can Drive My Car (or your car) or Run For Your Life but the train worked for us. It's not like it's Across The Universe or anything.

We started our day with the National Trust tour of Mendips and 20 Forthlin Road. The Trust runs either three or four tours daily depending on the day starting at 10 am. Check their website for times and pickup locations. Most, but not all, tours depart from the Jurys Inn Hotel on the Liverpool docks. Tour size is limited to 15; I'd always advise booking as early as you can commit to tours like this. Delay at your own peril or remain flexible in your plans. There is an option to purchase guidebooks for each property with your ticket purchase; these guidebooks which are each 16 pages long were also available for purchase on our tour. I bought both; there are good and inexpensive souvenirs.

The Cavern Club is located at 10 Mathew Street is open at 9:30 am Monday through Thursday and 10 am Friday through Sunday. Closing time is midnight Sunday through Wednesday, 1:30 am on Thursday and 2 am Friday and Saturday. During the day, admission is free; check the website for details later in the day.

There are many many other Beatles experiences available in Liverpool. I can't comment on the value of those because we didn't participate. We valued places where The Beatles had actually been rather than seeking out general information about the band. That's not to say that those experiences are not valuable, just that in the interest of time in one day, we chose not to participate.


Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Blue Plaques


I love walking around cities when I travel. Sure, it takes a little more effort, sometimes tires you out and it's not necessarily the fastest way to get from point A to point B, but moving around on foot allows you to get a great sense of where you are and what the place you are visiting is like. Taxis are quick and convenient and public transportation like buses and subways are cheap and available, but walking gets you closer to the fabric of where you are visiting better than any other mode of transportation. At least that's my take anyway. I always try to walk at least a little bit wherever I go no matter how little time I am spending wherever I happen to be.

In the last four years or so, I've spent a good amount of time walking around the city of London. It's definitely become one of my favorite cities in the world since I started writing this blog and my feet have taken me to a whole series of pubs, museums, parks, famous buildings, statues and maybe the odd ferris wheel or cathedral or two. Hoofing it while I'm in town in my various pairs of Rockports has allowed me to get a good feel of how the city first started and how it developed.

Walk long enough in London (and believe me, you can walk a long time in London) and you are bound to eventually notice one of over 900 circular blue signs scattered about the city on what seem to be random buildings. You may find just one on a street or there may be two or three on adjacent buildings on a city block. Get close enough to these things to read the words on them and you'll typically find that the signs commemorate a spot where someone more notable than I will ever be lived, stayed, visited, ate or died. You've just found one of London's famous Blue Plaques.

The first Blue Plaque was installed in 1867 on a house in Holles Street allegedly lived in by the poet Lord Byron. It is now gone along with the house it was attached to. Since that first plaque was installed (and it likely wasn't blue in color) by the Society of Arts, there have been markers installed all over the city to commemorate the fact that someone who did something notable did something on that spot or in the building attached to the Plaque. You likely have never heard of some of these folks like Luke Howard (he invented names for the clouds) or Frances Bush (lace manufacturer) or Alexander Parkes (metallurgist) but look long enough and you are bound to find Charles Dickens or Mahatma Gandhi or John F. Kennedy or maybe even someone who has deep personal meaning for you. Just don't look for anyone still alive (or recently deceased); you need to be gone 20 years to get one of these.

Despite the name used today, the first Plaques were not blue in color but a reddish-brown hue. The current blue design was rolled out in 1938 and has been used ever since. Over the years, the group responsible for the plaques has changed hands; today the English Heritage is the custodian of all of these in London. And yes, there are some elsewhere in the country but those are separate efforts unrelated to the London ones.

In my previous trips to London, I'd never really paid much attention to the Blue Plaques. This year I decided it might be interesting to seek out a few related to people who meant something to me. Who knows, I might feel something spiritual or find myself somewhere interesting that I'd never been before. I made a list of 30 or 40 then pared it down to about a dozen and ended up seeing just eight. And I didn't actually see one of the eight for reasons which will become obvious below. I'm listing them in reverse order of the birthdate of whom I went to spot.


Jimi Hendrix (1942-1970)
Every so often in the history of my appreciation of music, I've come across a song or piece of music that had me totally transfixed the first time I heard it. Pink Floyd's "Brain Damage/Eclipse" and Elton John's "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" come to mind here. A number of these experiences happened in the late 1980s when I was driving to some summer job in Connecticut in my parents' 1979 Buick Century station wagon. Such was the case with "Hey Joe". I was amazed at how powerful such a simple song like that could be. I had no idea who it was only that it was simply amazing. It was one of those "what the hell was that?" moments. Of course, it was Jimi Hendrix.

I'm not a big Jimi Hendrix fan in the sense that some people are Hendrix fans. By that I mean while I have all three Hendrix studio albums in addition to the compilation of blues songs put out during the unearthing of his catalog probably 20 or so years ago, I'm not super fanatical about Hendrix and ready to label him as the be all and end all of guitar players. I'd rather listen to Clapton or Stevie Ray Vaughan or Mark Knopfler. That's Stevie Ray doing Stevie Ray, not Stevie Ray doing Hendrix. But because of "Hey Joe" and Jimi's importance to the history of music in general, we made our way to 23 Brook Street in Mayfair to the white townhouse shown above.

Hendrix only lived here for one year and it wasn't actually Jimi's place; it was his girlfriend Kathy Etchingham's apartment. By the time he was in residence on Brook Street he had already recorded and released Are You Experienced, Axis: Bold As Love and Electric Ladyland and would headline Woodstock later in 1969. Before the end of 1970 and also in London, Hendrix was dead. I can imagine this neighborhood hasn't much changed since Jimi lived here. I can envision him emerging from the red door at whatever time it would be in the afternoon after long hours doing whatever the night before. I bet he looked wild in 1969 London.

Interestingly, about 200 years before Hendrix lived on Brook Street, the composer George Frideric Handel lived right next door to number 23. I'd like to believe Handel and Hendrix might have had something in common. Maybe.


John Lennon (1940-1980)
There is a gap in my music memory from about the fall of 1986 to maybe just after the middle of 1990. During those years I was an undergraduate at the University of Michigan and instead of being in synch with current music, I was going backwards. I started with the Moody Blues; moved on to Pink Floyd; explored all sort prog including Yes and Emerson, Lake and Palmer; dabbled in Bob Dylan (the full Dylan exploration would come in grad school) and Neil Young (thanks, Scott Richey); and spent a lot of time listening to late 1960's music from The Beatles. I firmly believe The Beatles redefined all of popular music; they moved the art forward decades in a few short years.

If you are heading on a Beatles pilgrimage to England, you have to hit Liverpool (where they started out) and London (where they all eventually moved to because they were recording at Abbey Road Studios). There is just one Beatles-related Blue Plaque in London and it's on Montagu Square, a long strip of a park just south of the Baker Street Underground stop. The plaque marks the spot where John Lennon lived in 1968.

1968 would be the year the group recorded and released The Beatles, better known as The White Album. It was probably the least collaborative album the group ever made. It was pretty much a collection of tracks recorded by each of the four members as solo tracks and just smushed together as a Beatles album. The year after Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, things were starting to come apart. In my opinion, this was not John's finest work. I'll give "Revolution 1", "Happiness Is A Warm Gun" and particularly "Sexy Sadie" high marks but I can leave the rest of Lennon's output on The White Album. I'm sure there are few out there who disagree with me here.

Lennon lived in the basement and first floor of 34 Montagu Square (which is the second unit in from the end in the photograph above) for just five months with Yoko Ono. Oddly enough, Jimi Hendrix also lived in the same unit before John did.



Charles Rolls (1877-1910)
Charles Rolls, along with Henry Royce, founded Rolls-Royce, Ltd. in the first decade of the twentieth century. You might know his firm as a luxury automobile manufacturer and probably the most famous English car maker in history. If you know a little more about the firm, you'll know that they were an early pioneer in the aviation industry and their successor firm still manufactures aero engines to this day.

I know little to nothing about how engines or any other sort of machinery works. I'm hopeless with that sort of stuff. But my dad isn't and he put his design talents to work at Rolls-Royce designing fan blades in jet engines for the better part of 20 years or so. We went to find this Blue Plaque on Conduit Street, which commemorates the spot of Rolls' office from 1905 to 1910, for my dad. My dad never knew Rolls; he was born 27 years after Rolls died in a flying tournament at Bournemouth on the south coast of England. But we went there just the same because of where my dad used to work.

I didn't know this at the time but Rolls was the sales guy and Royce was the engineer. While Rolls was a machine enthusiast (he broke the land speed record in an automobile several times and was the first man to pilot a plane solo non-stop across the English Channel and back) he apparently had nothing to do with the design of the product that made his company world famous. My dad, of course, did know this. His reaction when I told him we visited this spot was pretty much "Rolls was just the sales guy." No engineer, no respect from my dad. Oh well. At least I learned something.



Henry Morton Stanley (1841-1904)
I had no idea but Henry Morton Stanley had a hell of a rough start to life. And I mean that in about every sense of the word. He was born of uncertain parentage in Wales and was given the name John Rowlands, his last name being his presumed father who was not married to his mother and who passed away shortly after young John was born. He bounced around between relatives for five or so years before being deposited at the St. Asaph Union Workhouse for the Poor, where he was certainly abused and victimized by older boys and (according to some accounts) the headmaster.

He took the name Henry Morton Stanley after fleeing Britain for America when he was 18 years of age. While there seems to be some doubt to the story, Stanley claimed he was adopted by a man named Henry Hope Stanley after whom he renamed himself. After fighting for the Confederacy at Shiloh during the American Civil War, Stanley became a journalist, chronicling events in the American west and later in the Ottoman Empire and northern Africa. 

Stanley is perhaps less well known by his name than by his most famous quote: "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" Stanley was recruited by the New York Herald to find the explorer, missionary and abolitionist David Livingstone, who had become lost to the western world and who we ran into (in statue form) at Victoria Falls near Livingstone, Zambia. Without knowing anything about Stanley's early life, this is the reason why I sought out his Blue Plaque in London. Anyone generally connected with Livingstone in a positive context is likely OK in my book.

Stanley's Plaque is barely visible in the left side of the photograph above at 2 Richmond Terrace. And yes, that was about as close as we could get. The building is now part of the New Scotland Yard; the two semi-automatic toting policemen we passed about five minutes before I took the picture made me not really want to spend too much time getting the best shot I could. Stanley's Plaque reads "Sir Henry Morton Stanley, 1841-1904, Explorer and Writer lived and died here".


Herman Melville (1819-1891)
Sitting on the shelf of my library at home are four cloth-bound hardcover books I bought a long, long time ago when the idea of having a library of classics was a fleeting thought in my head. I got as far as four: Lord Jim and Nostromo by Joseph Conrad, The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck and Moby Dick by Herman Melville. Conrad is one of my all time writer idols and I love Steinbeck (Sweet Tuesday is my personal favorite) but Moby Dick has to be one of the greatest stories of obsession, (attempted) revenge and destruction ever written. It's simply awesome. 

Melville lived at the end row house shown above on Craven Street near the Thames for just a few weeks two years before Moby Dick was published. Oddly enough, I felt more emotion on this spot than all the other Blue Plaques we visited. I just thought about how cool it would be to live in this townhouse today knowing that Melville, right before he churned out one of the all-time greatest novels in history, was hanging out there for a little while in the mid 1800s. In a totally sideways thought, if nothing else how much more does it make the end unit here worth. I can't imagine owning this place and sitting in the living room thinking about where Melville might have sat. I'm in awe.

Moby Dick, by the way, flopped when it was first published. Melville never recovered from its failure and became a New York Customs inspector. The irony. There will be more later in this post.



Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
I have no picture of the plaque celebrating Samuel Taylor Coleridge's time in a building that no longer stands. Not because the Plaque got taken away with the Coleridge's former residence but because the current spot where it is mounted was buried behind the scaffolding surrounding the current building shown above. We just couldn't find it. It was the only one that we looked for that we didn't see. 

I hate poetry. Absolutely loathe it. But Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is an exception. I love love love this epic poem of damnation and continual attempted redemption as much for the dark and sinister subject as for the way it is written and reads. It's honestly the only poem I've ever been easily able to understand. For this, Coleridge seems worthy of some honor from me.

Coleridge, along with William Wordsworth, was a founder of the Romantic Movement of English poetry. He was also a lifelong opium addict stemming from his being treated with laudanum as a child for various illnesses. His life was pretty much as I would imagine a successful poet's life: spending time in idyllic landscapes writing verse and traveling while holding administrative posts appropriate to someone of his class. I can completely see Coleridge hanging around in London with Wordsworth or other contemporaries while discussing politics or poetry. The Plaque we didn't see at 71 Berners Street when we were in town is one of two celebrating Coleridge; the other is at 7 Addison Bridge Place.

This is not the first time The Rime of the Ancient Mariner has appeared in this blog. Two years ago, we visited the grave of Gustave Doré in Paris; Doré was an illustrator whose works brought the mariner's tale to life and complement the creepy tale by Coleridge perfectly.



William Wilberforce (1759-1833)
The reason why I've listed the folks whose Blue Plaques I visited this year in reverse order of their birth date is because I wanted to save William Wilberforce until last. I'm assuming most people reading this blog know who Lennon and/or Hendrix were and stand a good chance of recognizing the name of Herman Melville or Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Maybe you can put Rolls with Rolls-Royce and know Stanley if you ever studied explorers. But Wilberforce? He's probably the most obscure of the bunch.

William Wilberforce was a Member of Parliament in the House of Commons representing Kingston Upon Hull, Yorkshire. He secured his seat in the House by buying votes, a practice apparently customary back about 250 years ago. There were a lot of MPs back in the 1700s and a lot have been forgotten; Wilberforce is still known today because of his leading role in the abolition of the slave trade throughout the British Empire.

The Slave Trade Act of 1807 was passed after a 20 year campaign by Wilberforce and others. The Act, I am sure, did not do everything Wilberforce and his backers hoped it would do. It did not make slavery illegal (just trading in slaves) in Britain or elsewhere in the Empire. But it did start the practice of the Royal Navy punishing (albeit sometimes just through fines) those trading in slaves and did allow Britain to start to pressure other nations to follow suit. It was not an overnight international success story. David Livingstone (yes, the same guy found by Henry Morton Stanley) was still battling the slave trade in East Africa some fifty years later. But Wilberforce's efforts ultimately led to Britain pushing for and securing control of Zanzibar in 1890 with the express purpose of ending the slave trade off the east coast of Africa. Wilberforce moved the ball forward a lot, even if it didn't bring down the entire slave trade worldwide immediately.

This is not the first time we've sought out William Wilberforce in London. We were searching for his tomb in Westminster Abbey two years ago and had to ask for directions. We were led to his memorial by a lady who commented that nobody ever asks to find Wilberforce. On this trip we visited both the Holy Trinity Church on Clapham Common (shown above) where WIlberforce used to worship, along with the spot where he used to live in the Clapham neighborhood just to the west of the Church. Both were worth stopping at to understand his likely walk from home to services on Sunday mornings, although I guess there's some doubt as to the exact location of his house. The current Plaque (shown below) is mounted to a residence of more recent vintage. It's old enough to not be blue.

If you are interested in understanding a little more about Wilberforce, pick up a copy of the movie Amazing Grace. While I'm sure it condenses his 20 year effort to pass the Slave Trade Act and takes a good bit of artistic license, it's worth watching.



We visited these places so we could understand a little bit more about where some historical figures that I admire lived, worked, played and died. That alone was worth it. There are dozens more that could fill future trips but I'm not sure we are going to concentrate on seeking a whole series out on any one vacation after this one.

There was a side benefit in seeking out our eight Blue Plaques and it's the same benefit I often get by walking around cities: finding these landmarks got us walking through some parts of London we never would have been to otherwise. It got us close to 10 Downing Street (the Prime Minister's residence) which I'd never seen before in addition to having a pint or two of Fuller's London Pride at The Bank near Wilberforce's old neighborhood.

But the best thing we came across was a statue of William Tyndale in Whitehall Gardens on our way from Melville to Stanley. Tyndale was the first translator of the Old Testament into English (from Greek). If you had asked me to guess when this translation was first made, I would have taken a stab at somewhere around the turn of the second millennium A.D. and I would have been way wrong. Tyndale died in 1536 possibly while he was still working on the translation. That means that nobody in England had access to the Bible in English before the mid-1500s and honestly not many would have access right after that date either. I'm amazed. Sometimes walking gets you to some unexpected surprises. Ironically, Tyndale was convicted of heresy and executed by strangulation before his body was burned at the stake (I mean, what's the point?). I'll end with that cheery, but also completely medieval, thought.



How We Did It
If you want to take your own Blue Plaques tour through London, I think you have to start with the English Heritage's Blue Plaques website. You can get a listing of all 900 plus Plaques in addition to searching by name or by Borough of London.

I started at the website and reviewed the entire list of all the Plaques and made a sizable list. Then I started to locate them on a map and decided some were so far flung (like Freddie Mercury) that there was no way I'd get to all or even most of the ones I'd picked out for people who I admired or had influenced or improved my life in some way. Here's when the search by Borough came in which helped me get down to about a dozen names which were close to other sites we intended to see on this trip. We ended up ultimately just making it to the eight above, although the Handel next to Hendrix was a nice bonus ninth one.

If you are not into that much planning, there's also a Blue Plaques app, which will use your location to pinpoint Plaques near to your current location. I downloaded, but did not use, the app. I can't imagine me standing in London and checking the app to see whose Blue Plaques I am near on a whim. That might work for other folks; just not for me.

You can spend a lot of time in London finding Blue Plaques. However you do it, make sure you appreciate what you see while you are walking from one to the next. And stop for pints frequently.